Izpoetry: Excerpt from "Tales from a journeyman's pen".

Psychoretinal paralysis. Photonsaturation. The minds eye retreats to soothing shadows. Crystalline fragments of consumed memory. Broken Continuity. The selective frequency channeling mass sacrifice driven hungry gnawing on the photoelectric bone. Fattening the indulgence of our dreams. The slaughter of our innocents. To hail the newborn king. Gladly thrusting tender hearts against a newly sharpened future. Cutting edge camouflage of parental neglect. Three dimensional appetites in a two dimensional world. Prefamine feeding frenzy. In fading memory on St.Stevens day, we search for those the madness overlooked. Critical faculties hang from screaming nerves. Hypothermic nostalgia for more caring times. Plastic wrapped, old husks pack small in the formless void of ritualised love. The skips are overflowing with discarded hopes and childhoods longing. Lotto till Lent, Blotto till spent. Whilst priests impressed by suffering, proclaim the New Republic in the spring.

One roller skate,and no stabilizers...

Day two. My anxiety level is rocketing,not so much from the prospect of the physical work, I've got ten years of correspondence to copy and collate. More that the effect of then publishing the data is bound to cause ructions. There's quite enough of them at the moment, but I gave my word to a lot of compromised and compromising, professional networks and individuals a moral audit would if necessary be forthcoming, iz word is iz bond. I'm well placed at present , strenuously occupied in my garden project, preparing the site for a wedding. The ensuing work will leave in its wake a living context for tutorials of a most delicious, aromatic and life supporting kind. A light in darkened times. Excerpts of "Iznibz and tales from a journeyman's pen" will be regularly updated. Working titles, "Towards positive policing", "Fast track to hell", and "Who'd believe a crazy?" might cause a rush at the fig leaf counter, we'll see. Discussion is vital, my grumbling old giffer bade me be ever vigilant lest we forget, so that I am. You'll soon be able to sample Izmusic on the Plughole. It'll be stored on everlasting vinyl. A picture gallery of the garden project, Imagiz speak louder than words. So, who is Iznibz when he's at home? An enigmatic third party, "Who shall remain nameless until further notice", says he. So be it. Izbizniz! Saynomore.
Tomorrow I'll use two fingers, and I'll try and breath at the same time.